Half Moon
by piper maru duchovny
Summary: Love is formed partly of chance but mostly of complicated choice. - Marsan, s7.


**This is an alternate (Marsan) take on the Markabeth wedding episode. For this story's sake, there is no Ella.**

**Dedicated to Rachel because she's my mama goat and challenged me to use this song for inspiration. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned ER then a lot of things would have gone very differently. **

* * *

_So hold high how faint your reasons,  
That wind is calling my name,  
And I won't wait,  
Or I'll never get on  
-Blind Pilot_

* * *

What in the hell is he doing? He's sitting in gridlock traffic while his bride waits for him in a church across town. He is supposed to be on the way to his wedding but the union station sign has caught his eye and he's been sucked into a vortex of nostalgia and want. She's been on his mind lately, more than she has been in the last four years, and now he's craving her the way a junkie craves his next hit. He blames the letter that he got in the mail last week; she'd called off her engagement to the cowboy and finished the letter with the words 'If you're still in then so am I' and the confirmation number for a ticket to Phoenix.

It would be so easy to keep on going, weave his way through traffic, and find his wife-to-be in the church. It would be easy to be married to Elizabeth. She had stood by him, after all. She had been the one to stay. She had never left. He could marry Elizabeth and not have a single regret for the rest of his days. Or he could make the next exit, catch the train to Phoenix, and stop chasing ghosts of what might have been. He could have the life he had been wishing for since he met her a decade ago. He could face his fears – that she would leave him again, that they would never be as good as he had built them up be in his head.

He remembers the way it was with her. He remembers the early morning breakfasts of spicy eggs and laughter, the coffee consumed in mass quantities in the middle of the night while telling bad jokes to keep each other awake, and the way she smiled at him. He remembered what she felt like tucked into his embrace, the way he missed her like she was a part of him. He remembered how one look from her could make his entire day and how that final kiss, the one that had broken his heart, had still been the standard against which all others fell short.

She was waiting for him. She had stopped running. Susan was waiting for him in Phoenix and all he had to do was go to her. One last chase and he could finally have what he had been waiting for.

Before he could second guess himself, he withdrew the cellphone from his pocket and dialed his fiancee. She was bound to be furious but he knew it was for the best. He didn't want to wake up ten years from now and realize he had settled for a life of safety and contentment at the sacrifice of his heart. And he didn't want that for Elizabeth either. The voice mail clicked on and he sighed in relief. "Elizabeth, I know this is the cowards way out but I won't be there. I love you, I do, but we both know this isn't the life we're destined for. Be happy, be free, and find someone who can love you the way that you deserve. I'm sorry."

Traffic opened up as if by magic and he gunned his worn out van through the whole in traffic, slipping off the highway, and toward Union Station. He weaved his way through side streets and crowded avenues before finding the long term parking, unsure if he would be back at all.

Like he had just years before, he sprinted through the terminal. Out of breath, he collected his ticket and sprinted to the platform where the train was loading. As the engineer punched his ticket, he glanced across the empty tracks to see the platform she had left from. Like a ghost over his lips, he remembered the kiss that they had shared and the faint echo of 'I do love you' played through his mind. He loved her too and it was time to quit waiting.

–

She was sitting on a bench underneath the arrival screen, checking her watch and tapping the toe of her high heeled shoe. Her long blond hair had been cut into a short pixie cut and her pale skin was tanned but she still looked familiar, still looked like his Susan. He rubbed his well worn ticket stub between his finger and wished that he had brought a change of clothes with him, the day old outfit was developing an odor and he could do with a shower. But the crowd was thinning and his heart was hammering in his chest too much to care. Their eyes caught when she looked up from her watch and he smiled, giving a small wave.

Her hand found his, their fingers lacing together, and smiles growing big on their faces as they found each other. She led him quietly through the throngs of people, not daring to speak over the echoing voices. He followed without complaint, running his thumb over and over her knuckles as they slipped out the door and into the warm Phoenix air. Overhead a half moon dimly lit the sky and he dared to reach a shaking hand out to brush over the apple of her cheek. She ducked her head and blushed, leaning ever so slightly into his touch. "I didn't think that you would come."

"We're worth the chance," he breathed. Then she was up on her toes, mouth pressed to his and her arms snaking around his neck. Obediently, his own hands came up to bracket her hips and pull her tightly against him before slipping one up to thread through her short hair. She muttered his name against his lips, a soft plea for everything and nothing all at once, her fingers bunching his shirt as if he would slip away from her if she let go. He pulled away just enough to press his forehead against hers and his thumb brushed away the tears she hadn't realized were falling. "I do love you, Susan."

The smile on her face was formed from soft laughter as she pulled him down into a tight hug, her lips pressed against the crook of his neck. "I do love you, too, Mark."


End file.
